


Nicotine

by whatfandom



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Break Up, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Post Panic! Split, Post-Split, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatfandom/pseuds/whatfandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryden Fic based off Panic! At The Disco's song "Nicotine".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicotine

The first time it happened, Brendon thought, in the back of his mind, this was Ryan saying he wanted Brendon back. That he could accept the fact that Brendon wanted to go public- hold Ryan’s hand, and kiss him on stage, a real, nice kiss. Not just the hot touches on bare skin- drunk, sloppy kisses. Instead, Brendon let it happen; he _wanted_ it to happen.

The first time he wanted it, but he was expecting Ryan to still be there in the morning. Instead, Ryan left before dawn. No note. No nothing.

You know what they say, once is a habit. It only needed to happen once before Brendon didn’t think about letting Ryan in at two o’clock in the morning. He let Ryan pin him against the closet wall and their clothes fell off as they got closer to his bedroom. The sex was hot, slick, sweaty, and dark. Bare skin pressed together, but this time when Brendon kissed Ryan, he didn’t taste alcohol on his breath. This time it wasn’t a drunken mistake, but when Brendon woke up in the morning, the other half of his bed was cool against his fingers. Ryan was gone again.

It was a third, then fourth, then fifth, sixth, again and again. It was getting to the point where this entire thing was stressing him out. For the first time, Brendon bought a pack of cigarettes, smoking three of them on his first go. All these years of smoking pot paid off; he didn’t cough when the smoke entered his lungs. It was smooth; he blew smoke rings. Watching the smoke travel from his lips into the atmosphere as the cigarette disappeared under his hand was almost relaxing. Once is a habit.

The taste of cigarette smoke stayed on his lips for the rest of the day. That evening it wasn’t the smoke or the nicotine that found its way to Brendon’s lips. But Ryan. Ryan’s tongue sneaking its way into Brendon’s mouth, taking away the taste of smoke and poison and replacing it with something much, much worse– Ryan. All he could think was Ryan, Ryan’s mouth, Ryan’s eyes, Ryan’s body. _Ryan._

In the morning, Ryan wasn’t there. Brendon replaced Ryan’s taste with smoke, blowing out delicate smoke rings. In the shower, Brendon took off the scent of smoke, the poison, and Ryan, the other poison, off his body.

Smoking, Brendon told himself, he could give up. Anytime he wanted.

Ryan, Brendon told himself, he could give up. Anytime he wanted.

He told himself that, of course, but when Ryan called, he always answered. When Ryan came over, he always got what he came for; a hot, naked night.

It was Brendon’s fault. He knew it was. He slipped up and said the one thing they weren’t supposed to say ever again. Ryan didn’t have to say it back; the look on his face as Ryan processed what he just heard said it all.

_“I love you,”_ Brendon whispered as they slipped their sweaty, sticky bodies together for the night.

Brendon could actually feel Ryan’s heart beat that much faster in his slim, bare chest. Ryan just leaned over, pressing their lips softly.

_“I know, Bren,_ ” Ryan whispered back, but the look on his face gave away everything his words didn’t. _I love you too._ Ryan gave him another kiss, _goodnight_ , it said.

What was Brendon expecting when he woke up? Breakfast in bed? Ryan to still be there? Maybe, finally, a note? Instead, there was, once again, nothing. Only the small indent in the mattress where Ryan was. Only the taste of Ryan on Brendon’s tongue. _Not for long_ , he thought, as he slipped outside and grabbed the small rectangular red and white box along with a lighter from the kitchen counter.

Three days later he got a text, the caller ID labeling it from _“Ryan Ross”:_

_See you tonight xo_

Three days had given Brendon a lot of time to think. Before he knew Ryan would come over, he bought black roses. He met Ryan outside, in the dead of winter- on the snowy, white ground. Brendon had a stone cold expression on his face as Ryan drove up and walked up to meet him, lips before words. _Always_. Brendon held out his hand, pushing Ryan away as he turned his head.

_“No,”_ Brendon whispered, _“no more, Ryan.”_

_“But-”_

_“No buts.”_   Brendon let the black flowers fall from his cold fingers into the dusting of snow. _“No more.”_

He walked right back inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Brendon passed through his house, outside again, in the back yard. His lips closed around the orange end of the cigarette. He could only give up one poison at a time.


End file.
